


this great unstable mass

by subwaycars



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: F/M, Gen, Huddling For Warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subwaycars/pseuds/subwaycars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this great unstable mass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zarabithia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/gifts).



“I hate you so much,” Kate says through gritted teeth, curling into herself even tighter. Despite her best efforts, her mouth gets away from her and there her teeth go chattering again. She’d glare but she doesn’t want to make the necessary effort to aim it at Clint and it’s pointless to do it if he can’t see it.

  
Clint pulls her bodily over the console after a moment, his movements awkward and stiff. He gets an arm draped over her shoulders, pulling her in until she’s practically in his lap. Kate sticks her nose into the curve of his neck, _because_. His neck is freezing though, and Clint doesn’t even have the decency to yelp. She’ll have to get him back for this in some other way.

After a moment, she tucks her frozen fingers under his shirt. Clint barely squirms. Kate mentally huffs, and presses closer to Clint.

“So much,” she mumbles, and at least Clint’s laugh sounds pained.

Outside their car, the snow keeps falling, light and fluffy and Kate has never hated something so innocent so much.

“I can’t believe you drove us off the road,” she says for what has to be the tenth time. At least. She can hear the way Clint’s face rearranges into a frown.

“There was a deer,” he says, also for the tenth time. It’s impressive how well-tread this argument is, what with them only being stranded in a snowbank in a rental car with no blankets and no heating for about twenty minutes now.

“You’re an idiot,” Kate says sadly, patting him as best she can on the stomach.

“Shut up,” Clint says, and Kate does, only because she’s tired of talking.

If she wasn’t so cold it’d be nice. It’s quiet and it’s almost beautiful, the woods surrounding them dusted with snow like something out of a postcard or one of those useless coffee table books her high school friends had in all of their living rooms. There are small bursts of color every few feet- an orange leaf still clinging stubbornly to a tree, a strip of yellow paint on the road, a scrap of red that might be fabric or could be a buried body. It’s almost idyllic, really, a nice break from busy New York City and stupid people and noise. They should get out of the city more often, Kate thinks, but fuck not like this.

“I am never ever doing you a favor again,” Kate says, because, as it turns out, Kate’s pretty bad at not talking.

“Technically, it’s a favor for Banner, and like, the Avengers in general.”

Kate considers it. “I am still never helping you out again.”

“C’mon, Katie-Kate,” Clint whines. “Don’t be like that.”

He moves his shoulder like he’s trying to jostle her but at this point Kate is pretty much completely in his lap and also they’re too cold to move more than a few centimeters, so it’s not particularlyeffective. Kate grunts.

She lasts maybe ten more minutes before she checks the time on her phone again. According the numbers blinking bright and cheerful at her, it’s now been a whopping forty minutes since Clint drove them off the road. Kate’s sure she can no longer feel her toes.

“You sure someone’s coming?” she asks, just to double-check. She would hate to have to murder Clint, but it’d be the only suitable revenge if they amputate her toes. She’s growing rather fond of them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint huffs in her ear, and at least his breath is still warm. It makes her shiver. “Chill out, Princess.”

“Hah. Chill out. That’s cute.” She digs her fingers into his side, small vengeance. Clint squirms beneath her, just a little, and Kate wants to bite into the meat of his shoulder, hard enough for him to feel it.

“Christ, stop that, would you,” Clint says, grumbling. “You’re vicious when you’re cold.”

Kate sticks out her tongue, unthinking, which really means she just ends up licking Clint’s neck. Clint jerks away immediately, which, understandable, but his neck is also the only thing keepingKate’s nose from falling off, so uncool.

“Stop moving,” she says, and she’ll forever deny she’s whining, no matter what Clint says. “Aren’t you supposed to help damsels in distress?”

“Did you just call yourself a damsel?”

“Worst superhero ever,” Kate says, which is unfair, and Kate would feel bad about it but at this point she thinks maybe her feelings are frozen too. Clint stays quiet though, and Kate almost wants to apologize.

“Do you want my jacket?” he says finally, and a little bit of her heart breaks because fucking Clint Barton.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she says, warmed, despite everything. Clint huffs out a laugh, his head tilting to rest on the top of her head and together they wait.

Natasha’s the one who shows up to save them in the end. She’s in a big hulking beast of a SUV and her hair looks like blood against the snow. Kate’s never been so grateful and so horrifically embarrassed to see someone in her life.

It takes three minutes to wrestles the door open through the snow that’s piled up around them, and it hurts when Kate stretches out enough to stand. Natasha gives her a hand, and Kate clings to the door to keep her upright. Clint faceplants right into the snow when he gets out, knees buckling underneath him, and Natasha’s laugh is bright and warm and mocking. She helps him up though, and helps them both hobble into the backseat of her SUV, where there are blankets and thermostats of coffee.

“I will never forgive you for this,” Kate says, sliding inelegantly into the car. The heater is on full blast and Kate’s skin burns ice-cold.

“Sure thing,” Clint says, face contorted in pain. His lips might be blue. Kate reaches up and dusts off the snow still clinging to his face the best she can. Clint smiles, and Kate rolls her eyes. Natasha puts the car in drive and Kate’s still positive she’s laughing at them.

“Never,” Kate promises, under her breath.

Clint shares his blankets with her though, and an hour later, when they’re on their way back to civilization, Bruce Banner safety recovered, he lets Kate fall asleep on his shoulder, so Kate maybe doesn’t mean it all that much after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Autoclave by the Mountain Goats.


End file.
